


Zuneology

by interabang



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Gamora (Marvel) Lives, Happy Ending, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Violence, Pop Culture, Romance, Starmora Week 2018, Swearing, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-07-05 18:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15868950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interabang/pseuds/interabang
Summary: After the war, Gamora listens to Peter's music player and reflects on her memories with him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to [HungryHufflePuff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HungryHufflepuff) and [calydon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/calydon) for all your help and support on this ❤ And to [starmoraweek](https://www.tumblr.com/tagged/starmoraweek2018) for organizing this event for us fans of this beautiful ship ❤

The rain tapped a comforting rhythm on the _Benatar_ ’s hull as Gamora entered the bedroom she shared with Peter.

The first time she’d gone in there after she came back to life and helped defeat Thanos, she stood before the bed, taking in the sight of the place as though she hadn’t been there in years. That’s how long it felt to her, at least. She still remembers Peter’s hand gently resting on her waist as he stood by her side back then, nearly holding his breath as he watched her.

Gamora’s eyes had swept across the small, but cozy room. There was the collection of Terran keepsakes she had discovered in pawn shops that were set in a neat row top of the dresser. She saw her collection of weapons hanging on their wall hooks across the room, on the opposite side of the dresser. And lastly, Gamora’s gaze had settled on her bed. _Their_ bed. It wasn’t nearly as wide nor comfortable as the captain’s bed on the _Quadrant_ , topped with Yondu’s furs that Peter could never bring himself to discard. But the bed on the _Benatar_ was sturdy, and Gamora had an easier time rising from it.

At the time, she also couldn’t help but notice that it had been neatly made, the blankets folded and pillows fluffed just the way she liked them.

“You cleaned up,” she’d said. Gone were the piles of clothes Peter had thrown haphazardly on the floor. There weren’t any bags of candy lying around either, and there weren’t any specks of sugar that Gamora usually found on the bedside table. The wooden table and dresser had gleamed brightly, and the floor looked like it had been vacuumed.

“Yeah,” Peter said, drawing closer to her as he nuzzled the top of her head. “Couldn’t welcome you back with a mess now, could I?”

Gamora had smiled, pleased, and moved to face him as she drew up on her toes to kiss him.

Now, more than a week after ridding the galaxy of Thanos’s terror, Gamora entered the bedroom with less trepidation, and more familiarity. She swept around the space, picking up one of Peter’s shirts from the floor and moving one of their holo tablets from the dresser to the bedside table. The wooden furniture was already beginning to collect a bit of dust, but even she was too worn by the day’s events to get started on that.

The Guardians had elected to stay on Earth for the time being, making their rounds on the planet before heading back into space, where Gamora knew they truly belonged. They had spent a couple days in the regal country of Wakanda as Gamora rested - and was treated with a level of respect that she didn’t feel she deserved. Following that, they set out to Missouri, Peter’s childhood home, and that entire experience had been what Rocket later described was, “Intense as all hell.”

Now, they had stationed themselves in a place called Nu York, and the past two days been spent regrouping with the Avengers... Or what was left of the Terran warriors. The Guardians attended funerals to honor those who had given their lives in the battle to save the universe. Although Gamora had caught mere glimpses of their physical forms in battle, she knew their souls, and she honored them for their sacrifices. During this solemn time, old friends were reunited, and new bonds were quickly formed. Being back amongst the living felt, at times, almost as chaotic and overwhelming as being in the soul stone.

Gamora preferred living much more.

She hung Godslayer up on its hook, the one closest to the bed, and sat on it to remove her boots. Peter was in the shower, and if she could muster the energy later, she would take one as well. They hadn’t showered or slept much on the _Benatar_ since their last battle, and Peter was a self-proclaimed “creature of comfort.” He wanted to spend tonight on their ship instead of the nearby hotel, where the other Guardians had opted to stay.

After carefully placing her boots in the corner, Gamora removed her jacket to hang it on the hook closest to the door.

She felt something in her jacket’s pocket, and pulled out Peter’s music player.

He must have slipped it in her jacket before heading toward the bathroom.

Gamora stared at the screen as she slowly made her way back to the bed.

Carefully, almost reverently, she put in the earbuds and turned on the device.

It had taken her a lot of patience and research to decipher the titles and artist names over the years. When Peter told her the titles, she stored them away for safekeeping, holding them as close to her heart as she did with her memories. In the soul stone, her memories of her _real_ family – her mother and father, Nebula, the Guardians, and especially Peter – had kept her from succumbing to despair.

Gamora sat down on her side of the bed, and pressed the ‘Play’ button.


	2. Reach Out (I'll Be There)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When their first mission after Ego goes awry, Gamora gives into her feelings for Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This song is by [The Four Tops](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KnDm3qr1Knk).
> 
> This is for Day 1: Summer Trip/ **Mission**
> 
> As for the _Milano_ , my headcanon is that they did manage to salvage and fly it after Vol. 2, but after a while, they realized they really did need more space, so they traded it in for the _Benatar_.

She kisses him for the first time as he’s about to die. 

They’re holed up under a large desk as blaster beams streak through the air around them. The familiarity of the situation isn’t lost on Gamora; the acrid smoke nearly brings her back to the Collector’s lair, hiding with Peter from the blasts of the Power Stone.

But this is an entirely different situation.

His lips are the softest Gamora has ever felt. That doesn’t surprise her; she’d caught herself staring at Peter’s lip many times over the past months. Despite her reservations, she couldn’t help wondering how they would feel.

What _does_ surprise her is how Peter returns the kiss, leaning up into it as he takes his trembling hand and cups the back of her head. Gamora presses down, both with her lips and on the compress laid over Peter’s chest wound. Her hands are already slick with his blood, and if they don’t get out soon, this is the last she will ever see Peter draw breath.

Their mission was supposed to be simple reconnaissance of a secret group of Kree sympathizers in a town just outside Xandar. Gamora had accepted Nova Prime’s offer due to its level of ease. Not two weeks had passed since Yondu’s death, and Gamora hadn’t wanted to put extra strain on Peter. But the Guardians’ funds are too low for her liking, and they need this job.

Now, as their enemies roar with malice while shooting at the stone desk and walls around them, Gamora wishes she had never accepted the offer. All of the units in the universe mean nothing to her, compared to Peter’s life.

She squeezes her eyes shut even tighter as she deepens the kiss. She wants to tell him how sorry she is. How desperately she wants him to stay with her. How she can’t imagine living without him, now that she’s certain of her feelings for him.

Slowly, regretfully, she separates from him, and Peter just...  _looks_ at her. His hand is now stroking the back of her head, her hands are covered in his blood as she continues to press on the soaked towel she’d laid on his chest.

He gazes at her with a look in his eyes that speaks of nothing but peace.

Gamora opens her mouth to say something, anything.

And then the door to the room bursts apart.

Her ears ringing, Gamora instinctively covers Peter’s body with hers. Smoke pours into the place, and she draws in a deep breath, relieved when she sees Peter doing the same, though his breath laboriously hitches in his throat.

A few more blaster shots fly through the air, and then, suddenly, they stop.

Through the ringing sound, Gamora can make out the noises of fists hitting flesh, and then —

“Quill! Gamora! You two in here? Drax, dude, I think they’re down for the count. Mantis got the last one.”

Gamora’s heart soars.

“I wasn’t counting!”

“Gamora?”

“Behind the table!” she calls out, then turns her head toward the floor and coughs.

She hears the others before she sees them, her cheek pressed against Peter’s.

“ _Unbelievable_ ,” Rocket groans. “We storm the place and turn it into Kamadonian cheese, all so’s we can catch you two getting’ busy on the job! Your distress signal is for emergencies, not to invite us to a show.” After drawing breath to launch into another rant, his tone immediately changes. “Oh, shit.”

“Is Peter all right?” Mantis asks, stepping forward as Gamora lifts herself back up into a kneeling position, her hands still pressed on Peter’s chest.

“No, he needs help. _Now_. We have to get him out of here.”

Rocket taps on his miniature holo. “We got a hospital about twenty-five clicks from here. Got the _Milano_ parked right outside, cloaked and ready to go.”

“I don’t think we can carry him to the entrance,” Gamora says, then notices Peter’s closed eyes. “Peter, wake up! Stay with me.”

“Okay,” he mumbles, but his eyes remain closed.

“Peter, don’t you _dare_ go to sleep now! Mantis, do you have any bandages?”

“Right here.” Mantis kneels next to Gamora as she lifts the crimson-stained towel off Peter’s chest. As she pulls out gauze and a tiny can from a satchel at her side, Mantis places her hand on Peter’s forehead, and whispers, “Wake.”

Peter lets out a loud, wet cough as his eyes open. He moans as Mantis shakes the can rapidly and sprays a dollop of foam on his chest wound. Gamora covers the foam with the gauze, and she looks up at Drax, who nods and takes her place, kneeling at Peter’s side as he presses down on the gauze.

“Ow,” Peter mutters as Gamora realizes she’s still holding the blood-soaked towel, then tosses it across the room as she wipes her hands on her pants and joins Rocket. “We need to blow out a section of this wall so you can get the _Milano_ and bring it around to this side of the building,” she says, her tone clipped and clinical as she shoves her fear for Peter to the side.

“I’m way ahead of ya. Told Groot to turn on the tracking signal, and it should be here…” The comforting hum of their ship drowns out Rocket’s last few words. “Wow, he actually did it.”

Planning to give Groot a bag of Xandarian’s finest candy later, Gamora holds out her cracked red hands and Rocket passes her several of his bombs. She notices him pause as he glances over at Mantis, eagerly watching him, and, sighing, Rocket holds up a few more bombs as she jumps up and dashes over to take them.

“It doesn’t have to be a big hole, just wide enough to fit us all through,” Gamora instructs her as Rocket steps back, tapping furiously on his holo. In record time, Gamora and Mantis place the bombs in a wide circle on the far wall of the room. “Good work,” Gamora tells her hurriedly, getting a wide smile in return before heading back to check on Peter.

“G’mora,” he groans, lifting his hand up toward her as she kneels down next to Drax. “I... should’ve told you...”

“There’ll be time for that later,” Gamora says, wishing Drax weren’t right there. To his credit, he looks unperturbed, although Gamora has always had a sneaking suspicion that Drax likes watching them together.

“Need... to tell you,” Peter clenches through his teeth, blood starting to leak from the corner of his mouth. Gamora leans forward, over Drax’s arms, to wipe off the blood. As her hair lightly touches his neck, Peter’s lip curves up a bit as he looks up at her. “Your hair… is the most beautiful color I’ve ever seen.”

“Peter,” she breathes, but she ends up keeping her hand on his cheek.

“I love your eyes,” he continues, his voice not much louder than a whisper, but he presses on. “Love your smile. Gamora, I should’ve told you after Ego… I love —”

“— Head’s up!” Rocket shouts, and Gamora swiftly covers Peter’s ears as another deafening explosion resounds throughout the room. This one is much closer, and Gamora knows the ringing in her ears will take a bit more time to fade, but she doesn’t care about that.

“Coast looks clear!” Rocket announces after a few long moments that feel like hours. “But it won’t be for long!”

Removing her hands from Peter’s ears, Gamora glances at Drax, and he takes his hands off Peter’s wound, sliding them under his back.

“No, wait,” Gamora says. “Let me.”

Drax gets up and follows Mantis out of the circular hole in the wall. Luckily, the entire room hasn’t collapsed, and the building only has one floor.

Hope curls into Gamora’s chest, settling over her heart where fear had been gripping it like a vice, and she lifts Peter in one fluid movement, his legs dangling over her left arm as she holds up his back with her right arm.

“Mmm.” Even while wincing in agony, Peter sounds content to be in her arms. “My hero.”

“Thank me after the surgery,” she says, and he _laughs_. Then he lets out a volley of coughs as she walks over to the hole.

Rocket stands next to it, gesturing for her to move quickly, and Peter coughs out, “Got something for you, Rocket.”

Gamora pauses, and before she can stop him, Peter fumbles around in his pocket, then dangles a small data drive from his fingers. Rocket reaches up to grab it, and exchanges a look with Gamora. She could swear he almost seems impressed before he heads out to join the others on the _Milano_.

Before she leaves the room she never wants to see again, Peter asks, “One more for the road?”

Gamora doesn’t even hesitate to kiss him again.

 

 

 

On the way to the hospital, she plays his new favorite song on the _Milano's_ speaker system, and he holds her hand during the whole trip.

 


	3. It's Got a Hold on Me Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It takes a while for Gamora and Peter to properly dance together - but when they do, it feels right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This song is by, well, [you know](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DyMMEmwFQUE).
> 
> This is for Day 2: First Date/ **Dancing**
> 
> This takes place about a week after _GotG_ , and spans a couple weeks after that.

“May I have this dance?”

She looks up from polishing Godslayer, only to see his hand held out to her in invitation.

Gamora blinks.

Peter is frozen before her in an awkward sort of bow, one hand resting behind his back, the other one upturned in wait for her.

“I thought you were at the bar with Rocket and Drax,” Gamora says, turning away from the large table in the sitting area of Peter’s not-as-filthy ship. The Xandarians had completed a thorough cleaning.

Nestled in his pot at the center of the table, Groot watches her curiously as she sheathes Godslayer.

“Eh, I’m not in the mood for that tonight. So...” Peter says, still stuck in his half-bow.

Gamora sighed. “Don’t you remember what happened on Knowhere?”

“’Course I do. And yeah, I get it, okay, maybe I was coming on a little too strong. Didn’t mean to take it somewhere you didn’t want to go, and I _definitely_  didn’t mean to get a knife to the throat. But the stuff before that was nice. The, uh, dancing stuff.” Peter’s words tumble out of his mouth so quickly, some of them run together, and it takes Gamora’s translator a second to decipher his rambling. It used to take longer than that. Constant exposure to him over the past week has made it a bit easier for her to understand his words, although she’s not quite certain that she understands his desire to dance again – not after she cut that short.

Still, deep down, she can’t deny the thrill she had felt when she swayed with Peter. Gamora hadn’t been allowed to do ‘fun’ things after she had been taken from her homeworld. ‘Fun’ was considered _wasteful_. Up until recently, she’d only known of blood and balance.

But now...

Slowly, she reaches out, and takes Peter’s hand.

“This is gonna be _awesome_ ,” he says, his lips breaking open into a wide smile as his eyes shine with something indiscernible, something Gamora can’t quite recognize.

He takes his other hand off of his back and reveals he had been clutching a small device. He pushes a button and music from his player begins to flow out of speakers that Rocket had fitted in the corner of the sitting area. Rocket had said it was to prevent Peter from staying permanently attached to his headphones. Peter said that Rocket was paying him back for ripping up parts of the refurbished  _Milano_.

Gamora recognizes the melody from Knowhere as Peter pockets the device, slowly swaying in time to the beat. After a few moments, she begins to sway along with him.

When he tentatively rests his free hand on her hip, she doesn’t stop him.

Looking up into his eyes, still shining with an expression she can’t fully recognize, she finds her muscles relaxing, and she begins to move her feet farther apart and at a quicker pace.

“Ow!”

Gamora yanks her hand out of Peter’s. “Sorry.”

The indescribable look on his face is now replaced with a visible expression of pain. “S’fine. Don’t need that foot, anyway.”

Heat rises in Gamora’s cheeks. “Maybe you should sit down,” she says, keeping her gaze averted from her heeled boots.

“It’ll pass,” he grits out through clenched teeth as the song continues to play. “No sweat, I’ll just pick a different song.”

“Are we supposed to be sweating?” she asks, scrunching her forehead in confusion. There are many things she has to learn about dancing, if she wants to master it.

“No, I mean, it’s just a figure of speech.”

Gamora takes a step back, and his hand slides off her hip. His face looks even more pained, even though she hasn’t stepped on him again.

She can’t quite look at him for much longer, though she can’t fully understand why. “I’ll get some ice,” she says, and dashes past Groot as he happily sways in his pot, unperturbed by her mishap.

Behind her, she can hear Peter sigh, and as she rummages around in the cooler, the song ends.

 

* * *

 

Two weeks later, after a harrowing battle, when Peter approaches Gamora with his music player as she sits by the table, calculating the team’s budget for medical supplies, she feels something close to relief.

She pauses, and takes off her boots.

Peter _grins_. 

She’s shorter than Peter as he gathers her in his arms, and it takes her a moment to breathe and tell herself that this is _Peter_. If she can trust him with her life, she can trust him with this.

After they spend a minute swaying to the pleasant, familiar melody from Knowhere, Peter murmurs into her hair, “Want me to spin you?”

Gamora realizes, then, that they’re dancing very closely together, holding hands as their hips move in time to the rhythm.

“All right,” she says after a moment, not knowing whether to be more surprised that Peter asked her, or that she’s agreeing to a new move.

When he tries to turn her, holding up his arm, she lets go of his hand, pivots on her right foot...

And slips her hand out of his, completing a full revolution only to end up standing right in front of him, staring.

“Oh, sorry, you’re supposed to hold onto my hand,” he says, holding his back out to her in invitation. “So I can pull you back.”

“I don’t understand,” Gamora says blankly.

Peter lowers his hand. “Okay, then, you can spin me if you want.”

Gamora does.

She flicks her wrist on the upswing and sends him spinning.

Right into the wall.

“Peter!” she cries as he bounces off of it and lands onto the floor.

“ _Huhhh_ ,” he rasps.

“Are you all right?” she cries in alarm.

He remains flat on his back, groaning. “Uh huh. Yep. All good. I think I’m seeing stars and birds floating around my head, but it’s really no big deal.”

She lowers herself down onto the floor next to his head, resting on her knees. After a long stretch of silence, she says, “I don’t think this is a good idea anymore, Peter. Dancing with me might actually kill you one of these days.”

“Not a chance,” he wheezes, flapping a hand at her. Then his hand tenses up when he seems to realize that’s not a good idea. “Just need to keep workin’ at it, is all.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t want to keep doing this if it’s just going to hurt you.”

He lifts his head up from the ground, gazing up at her. “So you _would_ keep doing this, only if it won’t hurt me?”

Gamora nods and, after hesitating a moment, leans forward to gently rest her hand on Peter’s shoulder, to see if his condition is worse than what he says. 

Instead of crying out in alarm, his lips curve up in a contented smile at her touch, even as he continues to lie sprawled out on his back. Her enhanced hearing even picks up a short, low hum from the back of his throat.

Something in her chest tightens at the sound.

“This isn’t about me,” she says, after a long moment of silence as they remain on the floor of their small M-ship. Gamora tilts her head to the side, reflecting on the fact that she now thinks of it as _theirs_.

“Yeah, it is, though,” Peter says, softly, and Gamora meets his eyes for a second before she averts her gaze. The tightening in her chest does not go away. “I’ll figure something out, for sure.”

He starts to sit up, groans again, and lies back down.

“Peter?” Gamora asks tentatively.

“Just need another minute,” he whispers, and Gamora doesn’t _laugh_ , really - just lets out a quiet exhalation of breath.

 

* * *

 

If Peter had made plans to find a safe way of dancing for them, luck is not on his side for the next week. The Guardians become booked solid with odd jobs. Most of them dangerous, and only one of them pays well enough to cover Drax’s burns from a fire-lizard on Gunava. Not seeming to mind the pain, Drax deems it one of his most noble battles yet.

Two days following their harrowing adventure with the fire-lizards, Gamora leaves the small quarters that the Guna had helpfully offered, free of charge, to the Guardians for their heroics. She boards the _Milano_ , not surprised to find that there’s one occupant in the galley.

The sound of music drifting from the speakers makes that a bit obvious.

Peter’s checking his blasters and looking more sober than she’s seen him in a while – probably since Xandar. He notices her approach him, and he moves to pause the music on the little remote sitting on the table, but Gamora shakes her head. Peter lets his hand slip away from the remote, and the melody shifts into a calming, softer song. It’s not as percussive as the melody Gamora enjoyed listening to on Knowhere, but it makes her feel something similar to how she felt back then, dancing with Peter for the first time.

Without speaking, she stops in front of Peter, and holds out her hand toward him, as he had done before.

He looks at her as if she had sprouted another head on her shoulder. His bewildered expression almost makes her laugh – but then his lids lower, a smile spreads across his open, earnest face, and he takes her hand.

She likes him this way the most. No jokes, no covering up his insecurities, no hiding.

When she makes it a couple minutes into the song without stepping on his feet, he says, “See? You’re a pro at this!”

“No, I’m not,” she says automatically, but her tone isn’t as biting as she means it to be, and after a moment of Peter gazing at her, she relaxes her tense shoulders, swaying to the song with him.

She used to think she could never be a dancer.

But, as she shifts back and forth, her hand in Peter’s as he spins her slowly out, then gently pulls her back toward him again, she thinks that being a dancer might not be as impossible as it had once seemed.

 


	4. Sometimes It Gets So Hard to Hide It Well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Days after Yondu's death, Peter hasn't been getting much sleep. Gamora finds out why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This song is by [Madonna](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IzAO9A9GjgI).
> 
> This is for Day 3: **Night Confessions** /Stargazing
> 
> Credit goes to [enigma731](https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigma731/pseuds/enigma731) and [invisibledaemon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/invisibledaemon/pseuds/invisibledaemon) for inspiring this!

She knows he hasn’t been getting much sleep.

It’s been three cycles since Yondu passed, yet Peter won’t sleep in his large bed, covered in furs. She had laid down with him on the night of the funeral, holding him as he cried, but he had not slept then.

He flits from room to room, like one of the rust-red _Li’lods_ she still vaguely remembers on her homeworld, spreading large wings and searching for a place to roost.

She knows that he – all of them, really – need to go back to Berhert. They need to find the _Milano_ and, Gamora hopes, piece it back together. Perhaps it is naïve of her, but she thinks that if they can restore it, that can mend Peter’s broken heart.  

And she can’t stand seeing him like this anymore.

During the ‘night’ shift, she finds him in one of the smaller quarters, fiddling with the music player Kraglin had given him, courtesy of Yondu. She notes how the player is connected to rudimentary speakers on the bare, tiny dressing table next to his bunk. One leg of it is shorter than the rest, and the rest of the frame looks to collapse at any moment. In that moment, it’s the state of Peter’s claimed bed, rather than his somber expression, that sends a rush of desperation through her bloodstream. For a moment, she feels exactly as she did when Drax had pulled Peter, sobbing, onto the Quadrant’s deck as he clutched Yondu’s frozen body.

Peter is listening to a song she never heard before. She’s not paying attention to the words like she usually does, but she catches snippets of them. The singer – a woman, with a full, rich voice – sounds very hurt, like she lost something precious as she laments her belief in someone who had duped her.

Gamora steps into the room, and Peter looks up. His eyes are red, and his hair is a tangled nest.

She doesn’t say anything. Just unplugs the wire from the speakers, and takes him by his hand and leads him away from the rickety bed. She can’t help but be pleased – and just a little hopeful – that he lets her lead the way.

When she starts heading down the corridor to Yondu’s quarters, Peter tenses, his heartrate increasing, and Gamora’s breath catches in her throat. She turns to look at him, and squeezes his hand.

Still clutching the small music player in his free one, he hesitates, then nods, and follows her to the captain’s quarters.

She doesn’t press the button to close the door behind them wen they enter. There’s a dim flash of recognition, perhaps gratitude, in Peter’s eye when he takes notice.

Gamora slips her hand out of his as she approaches the bed.

And in quick, fluid, efficient movements, she whips off the furs.

“Gamora?” she hears Peter call out from behind her, his unused voice raspy and worn, but she’s almost pleased to hear the undercurrent of panic in his tone. That he misunderstands the situation is good. It means he’s still _there_. “What are you —”

“— These need to go into the wash,” she says, her tone clipped and professional. Peter is undeserving of pity, from her or anyone else.

What he needs is _help_.

“There are only two working washing machines on this vessel,” she continues, lightly tossing the pillows toward the open doorway. “We’re going to use them before they break, or at least before Rocket gets bored and starts taking them apart.”

Out of her peripheral vision, she knows Peter is watching her, his mouth slightly open in shock.

Then, after a few moments, he goes around to the other side of the bed to help her remove the sheets.

They sit against the wall, shoulder to shoulder, watching all of Yondu’s bedding spin around in the large washing containers before them. There’s a crack running down one of their windows at an angle, and it _bothers_ Gamora, but the hypnotic circular motion lulls her into a state where she’s almost complacent.

“Thanks,” Peter says. “For... all of this.” It’s the first words he’s spoken since she touched Yondu’s furs – he’d remained silent as they spread out the furs in the washing room and brushed them, shook out the sheets in the large sink on the far side of room, and hunted for soap. It was a small wonder that she had found a small box of powered cleaning agent, tucked away in a plastic bin stuffed with moldy Ravager uniforms.

“You’re so good to me, Gamora.” Peter says, as he turns his music player over and over in his hand.  His voice sounds clearer now. More present.

She turns to study his face. “I am?”

“Yeah,” he says, staring down at the music player. “Don’t know why.”

“I think you do,” Gamora reminds him, and he exhales sharply through his nose.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you earlier. I... think you were right, after all.”

This is more miraculous than finding the cleaning agent. “Peter...”

He lifts one shoulder, the one touching hers, then lets it slump back down. “I was trying to cling to my own fantasy of connecting with my dad.”

“Because I told you to,” she says softly.

“Yeah. But I should’ve listened to you once you got suspicious of what was going on. I called you a jerk.” He turns his head to meet her gaze, and his eyes are red and watery. “ _I’m_  the jerk.”

Gamora hesitates for a moment, wanting to defend him against himself, but she relents. “Well... you are also brave. And you can be kind. If I thought you were only a jerk, I wouldn’t have...” Gamora pauses, and draws in a deep breath before continuing. “I’m sorry about telling you to go with Ego. I suppose I wanted one of us to have a good relationship with a father. And I called you _insufferable_ , when I didn’t mean it.”

“It’s okay if you did,” Peter says. “I was being a huge —”

“— Maybe, but I should’ve stayed so we could talk through things some more. If I didn’t leave, Ego wouldn’t have gotten in your head.”

“I pushed you too hard,” Peter whispers. She can only hear him over the sound of the machines because of her heightened hearing. “I made you dance with me.”

“I _love_ dancing with you,” Gamora whispers back, before she can stop herself.

“But I tried making you admit you had feelings for me, too. Ego was already in my head on the balcony, only... it was all _me_.”

“Why are you blaming yourself for everything?”

“Because I sold you all out.”

It’s almost as if time freezes as they sit against the wall. Peter stops playing with his music device. Gamora _stares_ at him, not blinking, and her breath catches in her throat.

A tear slides down Peter’s cheek, and time shifts forward again as he lowers his gaze back down to his music player. Yondu’s bedding spins in the machines. “When he shows me Eternity... At first, I was gonna leave you all behind. I didn't care. I was... bummed for a moment.”

She raises one brow.

“Okay, like, _really_ bummed,” Peter adds hastily, “but then I accepted it. If it wasn't for my mom, and the fact that crapsack Ego had killed her, the universe would be just made up of two selfish a-holes right about now.”

When Gamora lets out a small chuckle, it’s his turn to stare at her.

“You really didn’t think I’d understand what that feels like, did you? To be swayed for a moment - for a lifetime - by a monster like him?”

His lips part in surprise, and her eyes are, as always, drawn to them. One day she would like to see what they feel like. Not today – but someday.

Peter still has a tether that makes him care for others. For someone who seems so much like the man who sired him, he could not be more different.

She hadn’t found her tether to compassion, until she met him and the others. Now, she would never let go of it.  Not even for the man who claimed to be her sire.

“It’s easy to believe in the lies they tell,” Gamora says. “It’s a lot harder to deny them of the power they think they have over you. When you do that, it shows them how much stronger you really are.”

Peter’s mouth flattens and spreads out into a smile. It’s the first she’s seen of his since that night she confessed they had “some unspoken thing.”

And now, she doesn’t need to speak any further so he can understand her.

Peter shifts and moves his arm up to tentatively wrap it around her shoulder. Holding, not confining her.

Gamora leans into his embrace, sighing with contentment, and they both watch the washing machines spin.

After drying and placing the clean bedding back where they belong, Gamora curls into Peter’s arms.

When he falls asleep, the worry lines on his face smoothed out and the tension easing out of his muscles, Gamora smiles.

 


	5. If I Could Just Find You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter finds a collection of VHS tapes, and is eager to watch the only playable one with Gamora to celebrate their first anniversary.
> 
> It doesn't go as well as they’d hoped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This song is by [Jennifer Warnes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CXX_osiiDcg).
> 
> This is for Day 4: Traditions/ **Pop Culture** (Technically, this fulfills both prompts, but I mostly had the second one in mind)

This is the most excited she’s seen him in a while.

He’s standing before her, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. One of his arms is outstretched, his hand tugging on the edge of a large black tarp covering a mysterious object. It sits right in front of their bed on the Quadrant.

“Surprise!” Peter says, dragging out the end of the word to give it a melodious lilt.

Gamora crosses her arms over her chest. “If this is another _nokvaid_ that Groot talked you into adopting...”

“What? No, it’s not. Learned my lesson after almost losing a leg last time.”

He whips off the tarp with the flick of his wrist, shouting, “Ta-da!”

Gamora scans the large device, two different types of technology fused together into one. The upper half is a medium-sized holoscreen with a thin frame, connected to a large, off-black metal box that looks much less advanced. To which purpose it possesses, she doesn’t know.

“What does a ‘tada’ do, exactly?” she asks, unfolding her arms and placing them on her thighs as she bends down to inspect the bulky lower half of the device.

“No, that’s not what it’s called,” Peter says, his excitement palpable. “It’s a VCR machine Rocket made for us! I found some tapes, and they’re really –”

“What does VCR stand for?” she asks, scrunching her brow in puzzlement.

“Uh...” Peter takes a moment to scratch the back of his head. “I don’t know. Video something-or-other. But it was one of the most awesome things there was on Earth when I was growing up.”

“Wait,” Gamora says, holding her hand up as she stands back up. “Tapes? Like the ones your mother gave you?”

“Well, sorta.” Peter pulls a bag that had been sitting on the bed and takes out several heavy-looking black boxes. Each box has two holes with white borders in them, and on the sides, Gamora recognizes the flimsy material stretched out between each end of the box. “I found these in a little back-alley marker on Talbus. They’re like the tapes my mom gave me,” Peter’s voice cracks when he mentions his mother, and Gamora nods in reverence. “But you can watch videos and stuff instead of just listening to music on these. Man, I thought I’d _never_ see these babies again! Lucked out with them, but not with a VCR. So I gave Rocket a couple hundred units, and he actually made one!”

Gamora then notices the faded Terran inscriptions on one side of each box. “Is the legend of Kevin Bacon on one of these?”

“Yeah,” Peter says, more soberly than she anticipated, “but when I put it in, the player must’ve erased the video somehow, because all I got was static.” He flips over some of the boxes, then digs into the bag for more, and Gamora notices that the flimsy material on the sides of all the boxes are wrinkled and worn.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she says, putting a hand on his arm.

“I was pretty bummed about it,” Peter confessed, “but that probably would’ve happened anyway. It happened to pretty much all the tapes, until Rocket kept doing his thing and made improvements. I put in _Ferris Bueller_ , then the player ate it. Put in _Star Wars_ , player ate it. There were some other movies in there that must’ve come out after I was... well, y’know, so it’s not a huge loss that they didn’t make it. I mean, _Jurassic Park?_ Sounds pretty dumb, if you ask me.”

“It does,” Gamora agrees, wanting to assure him some more. Not being able to see Kevin Bacon again has clearly been a huge blow, as does the other names he had mentioned, which he’d described to Gamora in loving detail.

Peter shoves all the tapes back in the bag and pulls one out, dropping the bag onto the floor. “Anyway, by the time the VCR actually started working, I only had one left. Burned through about eight tapes and two thousand units, so this better be worth it.”

“ _Two thousand_?” Gamora asks sharply.

“It’s fine. I don’t mind,” he said in a rush.

Gamora lifts her brow questioningly, and Peter turns back to the machine.  
  
“Yeah, okay, so let me just pop in this bad boy and you can finally watch an Earth movie!”

“What’s this legend called?” Gamora conjures up mental images of fiercely fought battles, castles that reached the heavens, and noble soldiers returning home to their families after winning the war.

“ _Dirty Dancing_ ,” Peter says.

Gamora wrinkles her nose, taking her hand off his arm.

“It’s not what you think! It only came out a year before Mom started going to the hospital. I couldn’t stand spending another night just with my Grandpa, sitting around watching him drink Scotch and flip through old picture albums. So I faked being sick and snuck out to watch the movie. Spent all my birthday money to get a homeless man to sneak me in. I got kicked out before I could even finish it, but… being in the theater, escaping for even just twenty minutes... It was worth it, at the time.”

A year ago, nearly everything Peter had just said would have been gibberish to Gamora, even with the translation implant. Now, though, she understands all of his Earth-related jargon, and most of all, she understands his childhood need for escape, distracting him briefly from the pain of losing his mother. Her brow softens. 

“It _is_ our anniversary, after all,” Peter says, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I wanted it to be special.”

Gamora’s cheeks and chest grow warm, no longer a strange or frustrating feeling to her when she’s around him. “Let’s watch the movie, then,” she says, and Peter’s smile grows even wider.

“This is certainly... not what I expected,” Gamora says as the flickering lights emanating from the holoscreen flash over her and Peter. They sit on the edge of their large bed, formerly Yondu’s. “You watched this when you were a child?”

Peter squirms beside her. “Uh, yeah, this is actually the part when one of the ushers found me and kicked me out.”

“Ushers?”

“Tattle-tales,” Peter translates, and she nods in confirmation, turning back to the screen.

Before her, there are humans engaged in extremely close dancing. The beginning of the movie had not conveyed these erotic images – in fact, Gamora had quite enjoyed the first several minutes of the story, staring in awe at life on Earth as Peter had known it, watching a hopeful young woman embark on vacation. There had even been some dancing that looked like fun.

Then the woman in the story, not-Kevin-Bacon, went downstairs, and – _well_.

Gamora doesn’t consider herself excessively prudish. She and Peter had engaged in far more intimate acts than the clothed Terrans dancing together in the darkened room on screen. Yet it still feels...  _strange_ to witness all the gyrating humans. She feels as though she is intruding on their intimate moments. Heat rises in her cheeks, and she turns away.

“Not a fan? I gotcha covered.” Peter picks up a small, rudimentary remote and presses a button it. The visuals on the screen speed up.

Peter puts his arm around Gamora, and she twists away. “Not now, Peter.”

He lifted his arm off her. “No, I just... Couples cuddle when they watch movies together. I saw it in the theater.”

“Well, I don’t want to be distracted,” Gamora snaps before she can stop herself. “I want to pay attention to not-Kevin-Bacon.”

Fifteen minutes later, Gamora is bored and fighting the urge to let her internal systems run on autopilot.

“You’re not into this, are you?” Peter asks quietly as the couple on screen splash around in a large body of water.

“Why would I watch others do the same things we’ve done?” Gamora questions. “We have already experienced this. Almost all of this. The only difference is the second, tall woman with the yellow hair. Is Zartic Suarsinkle —”

“— Patrick Swayze.”

“Yes, that’s what I said: Zartic Suarsinkle. Is he dating her too?”

“No, they’re just friends.”

“Oh, I see,” Gamora says, but she doesn’t. She furrows her brow, growing more frustrated by the second.

“You know what, it’s okay if you’re not a fan,” Peter says quietly, with an undercurrent of disappointment in his tone. “I’ll turn it off.”

Gamora puts her hand on Peter’s, stopping him before he reaches for the remote.

“Let’s keep watching,” Gamora says, and due to the reflecting light of the holoscreen – along with Gamora’s visual modifications – she can see his small, hopeful smile.

 

* * *

 

 

Gamora shakes her head and realizes she’d fallen asleep. She’s still sitting upright, her modifications making her appear awake, but Peter is gone.

He must have sensed that she stopped paying attention again, so he had left her alone.

The holoscreen is dark, with white words written in Terran that scroll upward into nothingness.

Gamora spends about five minutes with the remote to turn off the holoscreen. She considers venturing out of the captain’s quarters to find Peter elsewhere on the _Quadrant_. After a moment, she decides to stay in the room and go to bed. Since he had left, she surmises, he must not want to see her right now. That’s fair. It doesn’t bother her at all.

She gets up to move the holo, rolling it away on the wheels underneath the platform upon which the VCR sits. 

When she wakes the next morning, she notices instantly that he still isn’t there, the lack of his breathing a deafening void.

 

* * *

 

 

She finds him in the makeshift training room she and Drax had put together for Mantis. Peter punches one of the bags in the corner, and when she approaches him, he takes no notice of her, continuing to strike the bag with vigor and pretending to dodge its attacks. 

“Did you sleep in another room?” Gamora asks.

“Didn’t think you wanted me back in ours last night,” Peter mutters, then punches the bag again, though with much less force.

“I thought you didn’t like the movie either,” she points out.

“I was getting into it.” Another half-hearted punch.

Gamora fixes him with a long, knowing stare.

Peter stops hitting the bag, then turns to face her, panting as sweat rolls down his face, his hair unkempt with exertion. Normally Gamora would find him very attractive in his current state, but in this instance, she’s barely aware of his appearance. “Okay, fine, but I thought it’d be nice if we could watch it together. You know, as a _couple_. It was our anniversary, Gamora. I wanted to make it special.”

“That was _not_ how I would have celebrated one year together with you,” Gamora says.

Peter throws up his hands. “Oh, yeah? Well, how would you have wanted to? You never suggest where we should go. _I’m_ always coming up with date ideas, places to try out, things to do. The lake on Pumor? My idea! Stargazing on Ariston? _My idea_! Going to the Pylancea parade on Xandar and dressing up in matching outfits? All me!”

“Not all of your ideas are the best ones,” Gamora points out coolly.

Peter drops his hands to his sides, and sighs. “Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one putting in effort into this, into _us._ And you just... go along with it. Like you’re just _settling_ to be with me, or something.”

“Peter,” she whispers, “I thought you knew me better than that.” 

He runs his hand over his face, then roughly rakes it through his hair, making it look even wilder. “I need to get out of here for a minute. Clear my head.”

He leaves, and Gamora is, again, all alone.

She should follow him. She wants to fix this.

But she doesn't have a training manual to guide her.

She stays rooted to the same spot, for once at a complete loss.

Until she thinks about the VCR player.

 

* * *

 

 

She finds him in a bar, of course. As sneaky as Peter can be, she thinks with a sniff, he’s not the best at being surreptitious.

Not like she is.

“Hi, Gamora!”

Drax and Mantis wave at Gamora from a table to her right.

_Damn._

Slowly, she lifts her hand to return a wave, though it’s much less enthusiastic.

They both point to the back of the bar, and, after giving them a grateful nod, Gamora heads over there, weaving her way through the dancing, drinking patrons.

When she finally approaches the booth in which Peter is sitting, she can tell he’s inebriated. Not just that, he looks absolutely miserable. His eyes are bloodshot, he’s hunched over in his seat, and he idly toys with an amber-colored bottle, heaving a long, deep sigh.

“Hey,” she says, glad that this area isn’t located near one of the speakers so he can hear her.

Then, just like she had practiced, she mimics Zartic Suarsinkle’s assertive swagger, and leans over the table as she says, “Nobody puts Peter in a corner.”

For a brief moment, his glassy eyes flash with recognition and excitement, but he seems to remember how upset he is with her and mutters, “I watched the movie before I saw it with you. That ain’t what he says.” He takes a long, defiant pull of his bottle.

Gamora sighs, then sits down in the opposite side of the booth. “I’m sorry. I wanted us to celebrate all of our time together as well. I just... don’t know what you’re supposed to _do_ as a romantic milestone. I don’t have any experience with this. The only basis of comparison I have are memories of my parents, and even then, it’s not much. All I knew was, they just loved each other.”

Peter doesn’t look up at her. “What do you remember about them?”

That’s unexpected. Gamora would be lying if she weren’t surprised, and she’s not exactly skilled at lying. Peter usually didn’t ask her about her family, likely because he’s always been aware of how sensitive she is about losing her parents. He’s always kept his questions about her planet and childhood vague, as though he didn’t want to upset her and make her relive all that pain. 

This time is different, though, and she knows why.

Gamora thinks back to the disjointed, but treasured, recollections of her past. “My father would give my mother some of his rations, so she could split them with me. She would give him a seed when she found it. He gave her beads, so she could wear them in her hair. I think they went to the market once and pretended they were as rich as our village’s ruler, and they picked out all the items that they wanted. They went outside and watched the stars together sometimes, when they thought I was asleep. Like you and I did on Ariston.” Gamora smiles. “Of all the dates we’ve went on, that’s still my favorite.”

She looks up to find Peter staring at her, tears running down his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, Gamora,” he says, his voice technically a whisper, but she can still hear his words, and know his heart. “I was such an unbelievable jerk to you. I just wanted our anniversary to be like in the movies. Should’ve asked what _you_ wanted to do, all this time.” He wipes his eyes with the edge of his sleeve, and Gamora reaches across the table to place her hand over his other one.

“Well,” she suggests, “For our next date, we could go to Ergonar.”

Peter chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. “You actually _like_ that ice bucket?”

“It’s quiet,” she says, “and the colors of the sky are so captivating, especially at night.”

He still looks bemused, but nods. “All right. I’ll chart a course for tomorrow.”

Gamora pats his hand gently. “Make it after our next mission. We need to replenish our funds, anyway.”

Peter winces. “Oh, yeah.” 

“Could we see if the last song from Dancing Dirty is on there?” Even after watching the movie, she was still bored by the story – but she _did_ like the couple’s last dance, when Zartic Suarsinkle lifted up the woman, the move they had not been able to complete.

Peter lights up at her words. He flicks through the Zune, but sags with disappointment. “It’s not here. But another song from one of the singers is!”

Gamora says, “Then that’s what we’ll dance to.”

 

* * *

 

 

The pleasant Terran melody pours out from the speakers as Rocket groans, Mantis and Drax applaud in anticipation, and as Peter and Gamora clear the dance floor to start their routine.

Their choreography is awkward and clumsy, and not at all like the characters in the movie. The music isn’t as thrilling as it in the scene, either. Peter’s still drunk, and since Gamora had only watched the scene once, she doesn’t know all of the dance moves.

But when Peter crosses the floor to run back toward Gamora, she lifts him up high, to the sound of the Guardians, even Rocket, erupting in cheers - along with everyone else in the bar.

In that moment, Gamora feels just like Zartic Suarsinkle.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm _finally_ done with this chapter! These are taking a lot longer to finish than I had thought, and this one was the toughest because I kept trying to make it not be so similar to 'Please Rewind.' I stopped fighting it and learned to love the 'Peter finds VHS tapes' trope. 
> 
> To those of you who keep checking in and leave kudos and comments, I really appreciate all your feedback and patience. Hopefully I'll finish up the rest of the fills before the end of the year!


	6. You Felt as If You Just Woke Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter notices some newcomers in a bar he and Gamora are in, and he's not sure whether Gamora wants to see them. She isn't sure she wants to see them, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This song is by [Bright Eyes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xUBYzpCNQ1I)
> 
> This is for Day 5: Sacrifice/ **Epiphany**

 

“Promise me you won't kill me,” he says.

She turns to stare at him.  “What?”

They’re in a bar, one of the higher-end ones in the central district of a bustling city in Arago-7. Peter had wanted to go out drinking that night, since the Guardians were between missions and deserved some respite. Gamora had only agreed to join him if she could choose their destination. Peter had enthusiastically agreed, excited to spend some time with her when they weren’t standing back-to-back, fending off a pack of stagvuiks, or navigating treacherous caverns to collect precious minerals to help out an exhausted mining colony.

Their current location is on the complete opposite end of the spectrum from the, well, _less-than-savory_ establishments to which Peter gravitates. Their drink glasses are made out of the finest material in the land, and the drinks inside are pricier – and better tasting – than Peter’s usual choices. Gamora can still taste the sweet stonqrinberry liquor as she steps away from the glittering onyx bar counter top, shifting from relaxed to high alert as she continues to glare at Peter.

“Just trust me,” he says, his voice low, expression tense.

The bar counter top is a large, rectangular shape, a box surrounding the bartenders as they flit from glass to glass, and Gamora and Peter are at a corner of it, at the opposite end of the front entrance. To her right, there’s a small corridor leading to the restrooms and beyond them, lies an exit. Gamora had mapped out the area as soon as they had arrived.

She scans the crowd milling about the place, but Peter standing in front of her with his back facing the entrance. In a flash, he slips his hand into hers and pulls her into the corridor, separated from the bar by thick crimson curtains.

Perspiration lines his hand as he guides her into an alcove carved into the wall on the left side of the corridor. The chatter of bar patrons and thumping music are only slightly muted, but Gamora can still focus her enhanced hearing on the activity out in the main area.

She’s backed into the alcove now, Peter standing at the front of it, practically pressing her against the wall. If he'd done that two years ago, when they’d first met, she would have considered dislocating his shoulder. But she knows him now, every single inch of him, body and mind, and he doesn't look like he's playing around.

"Someone was watching you earlier," he finally explains, letting his hand slip from hers.

“Who?”

He shakes his head. “Dunno if you wanna know.”

“Peter,” she says, slowly and with exasperation, “Whoever it is, I can take care of myself.”

“I know, but...” Peter glances at the crack in the center of the thick curtains, then turns back to face her, his eyes concerned. “I figured you could use some backup.”

“Oh, for —” she snaps, both irritated and slightly charmed at his protectiveness.

And she stands up on her toes and _gasps_.

“I’m sorry”, he mumbles as she can’t help but lean into him. “I should’ve been paying more attention.”

She’s still so shocked that she barely registers what he’s saying.

She watches the group of Zehoberei mill through the crowd, approaching the wide front section of the bar’s counter.

What strikes her most about them isn’t their skin color. There are many green-skinned individuals roaming around the galaxy. No, what catches Gamora’s attention instead is their demeanor. They seem completely at ease in this high-class establishment, as though this isn’t their first visit. They look regal, well-fed, and groomed. Their hair is braided with polished golden ornaments that gleam across the room.

They look just like the etchings in the temples of her village, the historical markings that depict her ancestors before the famine.

She puts a hand on her stomach as she remembers her hunger pangs as a child throughout the night.

“What d’you wanna do?” Peter asks quietly.

She shakes her head, half-memories, nightmares, and daydreams from long ago swirling about in her thoughts.

Finally, after a long moment of contemplation, she says, “ _Leave_.”

Not even two minutes later. the obsidian asphalt outside the bar is under her feet, and Peter’s got his arm around hers. She knows that _he_ knows he doesn’t have to hold her up, but she also knows he’s holder her for her comfort, not because it’s necessary.

Years before, she would have rejected his touch. Now, she welcomes it.

She’s not crying on the way back to the docking center. There’s a burning sensation behind her eyes but the tears won’t fall.

She can cry, despite her mods. She’s done it before.

So why won’t she cry now?

“Do you need anything?” Peter asks once they make it back inside their ship.

She shakes out of her reverie and says, “I don’t know.”

He gently guides her to their room, and when they make it inside and he locks the door behind them, Peter maneuvers her over to the edge of their bed. Vaguely, she’s grateful for his guidance. She’s still in a bit of a daze.

He takes off her boots, then grabs some water encased in a metal thermos that’s sitting on their nightstand. Hands it to her.

She takes long gulps, draining the container. When she’s done, she stares at the container, knowing that if it were made out of disposable material, she’d crush it.

She considers doing so, anyway.

Watching her expression, Peter takes the thermos from her and places it back on the nightstand. He turns on his Zune and sets it down next to the thermos. A slow, soft melody pours out of the speakers on the small table beside their bed.

He sits with her on the edge of the bed and then, after a few moments of silence, wraps his arms around her. Gamora lets him pull her down slowly, so that they’re both lying down on the bed, and she ends up with her head resting on his chest as he runs his hand through her hair, his continuous movements soothing her. Bringing her back to the present, and to herself.

“Can I ask you a question?” he says, after several long minutes of silence pass.

Gamora nods, squeezing his side a little.

“Is that why you never went back? Or haven’t talk much about them? Aside from your parents, I mean. Is it... Is it because you knew they were alive?”

She nods.

“Okay,” he says, and keeps carding his hand in her hair.

“It’s still shocking, seeing them,” she says, her voice thick with unshed tears, “but it doesn’t change anything.”

His hand pauses, nestled in her hair.

“I think that’s why I was angry with you,” she whispers, lifting her head to meet his eyes. “When we were on _that_ planet.”

He exhales in a long, loud breath, knowing exactly which one she’s talking about. They’d spoken about their fight on Ego many times since that dreadful day, exchanging apologies and hugs. But after two years together, Gamora hadn’t ever fully explained why she’d snapped at Peter about not going to his home world.

Until now.

“I suppose I was... displacing my own fears onto you,” she admits. “I never thought about going back.”

“Do you want to?” he asks.

“Yes. No.” she shakes her head, tears finally spilling from her eyes, down her cheeks, as she wrestles with that thought.

“It’s okay, baby,” he says in assurance, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “You don’t have to decide now.”

“Maybe... maybe one day,” she allows. “After we go to Earth, and visit your home first.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Maybe we could do that.”

The song plays again, set on repeat mode as Peter is wont to do when he’s in a certain mood. Sometimes it irritates Gamora, but in this instance, she doesn’t mind.

He holds her until she falls asleep, her tears drying on his shirt.

She has never forgotten being taken from her home world, ripped away from her parents as they lay dead on the ground.

But, in a way, she realizes why she hasn’t felt the need to return to her planet.

She has her family, the Guardians and Nebula. Even though they’re separated by the vastness of space, their connection has never wavered.

She keeps her love for her parents deep within her heart. But she has a new home now.

She has Peter.

And, for now at least, he is all she needs.

 


	7. Just What I'm Hoping For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gamora watches Peter as he tells the others he and Gamora are going to take a rain check and ‘keep an eye on the Benatar.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This song is by [Adele](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3zXASsQcdUY)
> 
> This is for Day 6: **Future** /Wedding

She watches him on the surveillance cameras on the Benatar’s bridge.

He’s standing in front of the others with his back to the camera, addressing them as they’re all standing around him in a semi-circle.

“I’m gonna take a rain check on this one, guys.” 

Gamora lowers the volume of the song emanating from the speaker system Peter’s Zune so she can hear him - but she doesn’t lower the volume  _all_ the way down; she quite likes this song and the singer’s hopeful, rich voice.

Bobbing her head to the cheerful tune despite its lowered volume, Gamora taps the holoscreen, manually zooming in on the group so closely that she can see Rocket scoff, rolling his eyes, as Drax asks, “But the skies look completely mild tonight.”

They’re docked on Mobius, in a sparsely populated township. Behind the Guardians, toward the entrance of the landing port, a couple locals mill around, gawking at the small group gathered around the Benatar. Before landing, Peter had informed the crew that the locals tended to stare, adding, “S’ironic, considering the civilians are so freakin’ tall, and I’m pretty sure their diet is made up entirely of orange juice.”

Gamora shakes her head as if Peter is right next to her, and she watches the other Guardians on the feed as they turn to wave at the startled locals, who scurry away. It seems quite natural to Gamora that the local inhabitants are so curious; they don’t get many visitors, which was probably why the High Council had reached out to the Guardians as a last resort on what was, the Guardians’ discovered, a routine security detail during transport of the Council’s royal squiddicrab.

That’s what she remembers Peter calling it, anyway.

The Guardians aren’t needed until the next day, so they had decided to explore the township for the night – “The one waterin’ hole they got here, so it shouldn’t take too long,” Rocket had groaned.

They had planned to together as a team. Until Peter suddenly changed his mind, deciding that he and Gamora were going to ‘keep an eye on the Benatar.’

“Denarian Dey sent me a message warning us about the high level of theft in this area,” Gamora had informed Peter before he went outside to tell the others about the two of them staying on he ship. “Rocket rigged a solid enough security system, especially with all those high-resolution cameras, but I think it’s best if I stay here tonight to make sure no one tries to fly off with our ship.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want that,” Peter had said, and cleared his throat as he watched Gamora check the cameras rigged around the outside of the Benatar. “Matter of fact, I think I’ll stay in with you tonight. Keep you company.”

Gamora’s lip quirked up as she reconfigured the security feed on her datapad. “And this wouldn’t have anything to do with us getting some ‘alone time,’ would it?” She asked, though in a teasing matter.

Peter had let out a chuckle, ducking his head as he ran his hand through his hair sheepishly. As she ran her gaze up and down the entire length of him, standing next to his seat on the upper level, she could tell that, after three cycles of traveling through deep space, he’d been feeling a little loopy. Between all the Groot-shaped emergencies taking up most of their attention during the trip, and Gamora running through some defense training with Mantis, the couple hadn’t had much time to themselves since they’d restocked their supplies on Xandar (“Again, Gamora. Three. Whole. Cycles,” Peter pointed out in a strained voice.) Not to mention Rocket had been even harder than normal to butt in on any stray moment Peter and Gamora caught a moment alone together.

Rocket barely gave them any flack whenever the Guardians visited Kraglin to spend time on the _Quadrant_. It was a large ship, with “just the right amount of space so Groot can’t hear yous all the time.” But the Benatar was a lot smaller, and for _years_ , Rocket swore he could hear “way too much” whenever Gamora and Peter were in their room together. Peter was certain that Rocket couldn’t help but exaggerate how loud they were, since they always tried to stay quiet on the Benatar, but that explained why Rocket kept knocking on their door and running off in the middle of the ‘night.’ 

“Woah,” Peter had said, hands on his hips, “Why would you even get that impression? It’s not like I’m dying to put on some music, get comfortable in bed with you, and... Y’know.”

“Hmm,” Gamora said, surprising him. “That would be nice, now that you mention it.” She turned away from the security screens on her holo and got out of her seat, and climbing up the stairs toward Peter, with a deliberate swing in her own hips. “After all, it _has_ been a while.”

“And this ain’t got nothing to do with you and Gamora being alone for the night, does it?” Rocket asks, shaking Gamora out of the very recent, _very_ private memory.

On the viewscreen, Gamora can see Peter shake his head, also looking like he’d been lost in thought. So, he too was remembering when she’d sauntered up the steps in the cockpit not ten minutes ago, giving him one of the most intense, passionate kisses he ever received not just in the past three years, but his whole _life_ – that’s what he’d admitted to her, anyway. “No, I uh, don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure, you don’t,” Rocket says, ignoring Mantis’s giggling as he points up at Peter accusingly. “Mark my words, Quill: if I ever see a little green brat running around on this ship, I’m outta here like _that_.” Rocket snaps his tiny fingers together. “We already got enough on our hands with one.” He jerks his head over toward Groot, who had sprouted quite a bit in the last three years. Gamora frowns when she sees that he’s playing that game of his again, completely oblivious to what they were discussing.

“Aw, come on, Rocket. You’d be a great uncle,” Peter says, grinning because Gamora knows that _he_ knows the very idea would annoy Rocket even more.

“Don’t push it, Quill.”

“Yes, Peter, whatever you do, _please_ don’t push the green child when you have her,” Drax says, very solemnly, and Peter sighs.

“I’m not gonna... You know what? You guys have fun.”

“We will! And you two have fun as well!” Mantis says, waving happily.

“Not too much fun, though,” Rocket warns.

As the others head out of the spaceport into the small town, Gamora finally deboards the Benatar, joining Peter’s side.

“They grow up so fast,” he says, pretending to sniffle as she watches the others disappear into a one-story tavern.

She shakes her head in amusement. “Rocket didn’t take it well, did he?”

“He’s thrilled for us, really,” Peter insists. “Deep, deep down inside, he wants us to get married and have a kid, I just know it.”

“You’ve thought about that?” Gamora asks, surprised.

“Uh, yeah, probably not the best time to tell you,” Peter says, getting that embarrassed look on his face with which she’s very familiar. “Look, I’m just a little out of it because of the last few cycles, and Rocket was sayin’ all this stuff about us not having kids, and I just...”

Gamora slips her hand in his, and he instantly stops talking.

“Maybe I’ve been thinking of the same things, too,” she murmurs in Peter’s ear. Even though the others are gone and the docking station is virtually empty save for a few locals in the control room, her words are solely for Peter. “Not now, but - later. _Much_ later.”

“Oh, thank God,” Peter says, breathing out a long sigh of relief. “I was hoping I didn’t scare you with that kinda talk.”

“It’s honestly more weird to me that it’s _not_ scaring me,” Gamora says, looking very calm. “And if you want, we could always adopt. I think Rocket would make a wonderful babysitter, don’t you?”

Peter lets out a loud, joyous laugh, lifting his arm to wrap it around Gamora’s shoulder as they turn back to board their ship.

“Just look at me,” he says, grinning, with a bounce in his step beside her. “I’m the luckiest guy in the whole universe.”

A year ago, Gamora would have corrected him, pointing out that luck has nothing to do with their relationship, or their relatively charmed life with their family.

Now, though, she leans her head on his shoulder as she smiles, feeling the same way.


	8. You Make Me Feel Like I'm Alive Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gamora and Peter reunite in the soul realm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This song is by [Coldplay](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XsMpXczOIPs).
> 
> This is for Day 7: Free Day

“No one can save me from him," she tells him, gently, long before they have to face him. “Not even you.”

“I _will_ , Gamora,” he says, taking her hand rubbing it between both his hands, as if to warm her. “Nothing's gonna happen to you.”

“You can’t know that,” she says, and he lifts her hand to his lips, kissing her palm.

“I promise.”

 

* * *

 

 

When she sees him in the orange place, she isn’t surprised.

She finds him running, away from his section in this strange, mysterious place. It looks like he’s running from a bed, with a frail woman lying on it.

As she watches him from afar, he finally comes to a stop under the archway from her homeworld, staring up at the structure. She _concentrates_ , and a small platform rises beneath him, lifting him up above the calm, shallow pool. He lets out a surprised yell, and stumbles, falling over on it. Sniffling, he draws his knees up to his chin, and hides his face away from anyone who might be looking.

She approaches the platform, not knowing what to say at first. He might not even recognize her. After a long moment of hesitation, of doubt, she finally asks, “What are you hiding from?”

He doesn’t answer her, at first. Then, after a long, shuddering sob, he replies, “ _Everyone_.”

Peter would recognize her by now. She knows he would.

“Well,” she says, then pauses to consider her next words as she nears the platform. Her tiny feet slosh through the water, even though they don’t feel damp at all. “Can I sit with you, and keep watch?”

Eventually, he stops hiding his face in his knees, and doesn’t run away when Gamora gets up on the platform. Under the arch, Gamora feels _different_. Safe.

“I think I know you from somewhere,” Peter mumbles when he dries his eyes and looks up at her. “Maybe in a dream, or somethin’.”

“Here,” she says, and pulls out several stones from her robes.

His eyes grow wide when she holds them out to him. “Where’d you get those?”

“I don’t know,” she lies, and he glances at her suspiciously, but takes a stone anyway.

They spend a long time – or, rather, it _feels_ like a long time – together on the platform, skipping rocks. Then, when Peter stops reaching down to pick one up from the pile between them, Gamora looks at him, noticing the tears streaming down his face.

“What's wrong?”

“I did something bad,” he whispers. “Real bad.”

“What did you do?” She doesn’t know what takes place outside of this realm, but she knows Peter, and she’s unsurprised that he did something reckless.

“I can't remember,” he says.

“It probably wasn't that bad,” Gamora says, putting her hand on the boy’s shoulder.

He shakes his head but at least he’s not scooting away from her. “It was _awful_. I think... I think I got real mad. But I can't remember more than that. Or why.”

She just pats his arm and says, “All right.”

He looks up at her, then, and in the span of what feels like both seconds and hours, realization dawns on his much younger face.

“Gamora?” he whispers, staring at her in awe.

“ _Gamora_ ,” she hears again - and it’s not Peter saying her name.

His eyes widen in shock, and before Gamora can stop it, he disappears from her view.

“Stop it!” she screams at the looming figure in the distance.

“I only wish to speak with you,” he says, and she can hear the devastation in his rumbling voice. She can’t see him, but she knows that he’s weeping at the sight of her.

But she doesn’t care.

“Bring Peter back,” she says, getting up to stand on the platform. She _concentrates_ , and the calm orange sky starts to darken, clouds swirling over the looming figure as he glances up. “Bring him back _now_.”

“What are you —” he starts to question, but he is gone before he can finish.

Peter re-appears, sitting in the same spot where he had faded away.

His look of fear shifts into elation when he sees her again, and he gets up.

As he scrambles to his feet, she swears she can hear a song playing in the distance. It’s not one of the songs on his Zune; she’s listened to all of them. No, this is a new one.

But it sounds like a song he would like.

When he gets up, he embraces her, and she can hear the song even more clearly now. They revolve on the spot as the song keeps playing, and when it comes to an end, when Peter pulls back to look at her, he’s older – just like how she knows him.

She’s older, too.

“You did it! I don’t know how, but you brought me back.”

She doesn’t know either, but, somehow, she has power over the stone that Thanos does not. His influence on it is fading fast, while hers is growing even stronger.

“Oh, _man,_ ” Peter says, another realization slamming into him, and then he’s embracing her once again.

She pats his back as he cries on her shoulder, his shoulders shaking.

“’m sorry,” he manages to say between his sobs. “I fucked up real bad. They almost had the gauntlet off him, and then I found out you were gone, and I... I didn’t mean to -  _fuck_. I shouldn’t have hit him, I just... I’m so sorry.”

Gamora just wraps her arms around him, sensing his warmth, when she hadn’t before.

“They were _so close_ ,” he says.

“Well,” Gamora says, moving her hand in a comforting circle on his back, “I should’ve gone right.”

He draws back again, tears streaking down his face as he stares at her, in complete disbelief.

“Baby,” he says, sniffling, “That’s not even in the same _realm_ of...”

Then, when he sees her expression, when he look at _her_ and truly sees the meaning behind her words, he starts to laugh.

She does, too.

“He was going to win, no matter what we did,” Gamora says. “We both made mistakes, but now...  _Now_ , we need to make things right.”

“How?” he asks, and she dries his eyes with her hands.

“I made the first move. Now it’s up to Nebula to do the rest.”

“Really? How —” Peter starts, but before he can continue, the clouds above them part.

And it begins to rain.

“Come on,” Gamora tells him, taking him by the hand as she steps off the platform. “Let’s go save the universe.”

 

* * *

 

 

Gamora had been right, in the end: Peter was unable to save her.

And that was okay.

She hadn’t realized it then, but now she knows that she’s going to help save everyone.

Nebula brings them all back, with the power of the gauntlet. There’s Peter, and the other Guardians, and all the strangers Gamora had seen as half-shadows.

She finds herself alive and whole, back in the realm of the living, with Nebula standing over Thanos’s corpse, the sky above a clear blue, and the ground beneath her green, and solid, and _real_.

And, when Peter picks her up and spins her around, when the Guardians surround them with cries of joy, Gamora just _laughs_.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gamora reflects on the aftermath of the battle, and listens to one more song on the Zune.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, finally finished this! Thank you to everyone who read, commented, and gave kudos to it! 
> 
> Note: I re-read the first chapter and realized that, back when I started this, my 'headcanon' for Endgame was that the dusted had come back first, then Gamora did, hence Peter cleaning their bedroom. But I loved the idea of Gamora reconnecting with Peter in soul world so much that I really wanted to include that in this series, so as a 'retcon,' I'll leave the discrepancy as Peter managing to get to the Benatar first and tidying it up before Gamora boarded it.
> 
> Anyway, I just wanted to clear that up. The song featured here is by [Maxine Nightingale](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ckCwBAhz4oc)

With shaking fingers, Gamora pressed the ‘pause’ button on the Zune.

She hadn’t even realized it, but she had shifted from her sitting position on the edge of her and Peter’s bed, laying on it with her eyes closed, letting the melodies flow through her ears and right into her soul.

Her soul. Gamora instinctively placed her trembling hand on her chest, over her heart. She knew by now, more than anyone, just how precious and intangible one’s soul is. She knew how lucky she was to be alive; returned to this realm along with the others, thanks to her sister and the Avengers – both those who were still living, and those who were not.

There were a lot of things that she still need to process. The fact that she had been one of the keys to unlock the gauntlet, and bring so much devastation upon the universe, still haunts her. She was relieved beyond words to be back with her family, to be here and witness Drax engage in arm-wrestling matches with the unmatched Captain Marvel. Gamora was fortunate enough to be alive and watch Groot actually look up from his game, and hold a conversation with a wide-eyed, excitable boy who was also, aptly, named Peter. Gamora could look on with a proud smile as Mantis impressed the man with the metal wings with her abilities. Gamora could also distract Rocket from sneaking off after the man with a metal arm in order to steal it, and she could ask him to tell her more about his experiences with the Avengers, and Nebula.

Gamora could embrace her sister again, and tell her she saved everyone.

Though Gamora’s emotional and mental state still needed time to heal, her body was whole and just as it had been, before that horrible fall. When she came back, she only realized after the battle, that her modifications were gone. She had long since repurposed them to help others in need, rather than using them to destroy, but she didn’t mourn the loss of them. It took a while to adjust to life without her enhanced hearing and strength, but she managed just fine. She could still spar and keep up with the best of the warriors on Earth, particularly the women she had met not long after the battle, Natasha and Okoye.

Gamora could enjoy so many more things that life had to offer. She could eat the delicious meals in all the lands she visited on Earth: Wakanda, Missouri, Nu York.  

She could wrap her arms around her Peter’s back and lift up to give him a kiss, and he would sink into it, leaning into her whenever they were able to sneak away for some ‘alone time,’ as he had always referred to it.

Even after the war, after all the hardships they suffered, Thanos could not take that away from her, from them. He had tried to separate them, keep her to himself, in the soul realm, while maintaining his twisted ‘balance’ outside of the soul stone, but Gamora would reject him a thousand times more, even if she were still trapped in the stone.

But she wasn’t – not anymore. She was here, lying on the bed she’d shared with Peter for the last four years. She felt her heart beating under her hand, and she could breathe in, and out. She could listen to music, and swing her sword with ease.

She could also dance.

Gamora pressed ‘play,’ and the music device lying next to her on the pillow automatically changed over from the last song she had heard, to the next.

_Ooh, and it’s all right, and it’s coming along,_

_We gotta get it right back to where we started from..._

Gamora opened her eyes, and in the span of less than a minute, she took the buds from her ears, leapt up from the bed, and picked up the remote sitting on the nightstand.

She turned on the speakers, and the song from the Zune poured out through the speakers placed up in the corners of the bedroom.

_Do you remember that day (that sunny day),_

_When you first came my way?_

“ _I said no one could take your place_ ,” Peter sang as the door to their bedroom automatically slid open, revealing him moving along in time with the music, clad in nothing but a towel.

Gamora’s smile broke out into a wide grin as he spun into the room, pressing the button to close the door behind him. He stopped mid-revolution in front of her, taking up her hands in his as they both moved in time together with the melody.

Gamora didn’t sing along with his music a lot – but she mouthed along with the lyrics as he watched her, eyes shining with gratitude and reverence.

“ _Love is good, love can be strong.”_

 _“We gotta get it right back to where we started from,”_ he sang, right from his heart, and as they swayed together, hands clasped, Gamora reached up to kiss him.


End file.
